


Nutella Sandwiches

by i_honestly_dek



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Bucky doesn't remember how to flirt, Cuz I don't think MCU!Bucky would admit these things, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Is this considered AU, Love Confessions, Sort Of, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, gotta love him, poor kid, steve stirs the pot, steve's sneaky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-29 16:05:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19023298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_honestly_dek/pseuds/i_honestly_dek
Summary: Bucky's got a cruuuuush. A crush so bad that he actually admits it. With words. Like, real sentences.Now if only he could say those sentences to the right people.floofy fluff, and i apologize for chapter 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Back on my MCU bullshit. It's longer than I intended, but I hope it's good. Enjoy, my friends!

“Hey Steve?”

Steve doesn’t look up from his phone, unwilling to pry his eyes from an adorable cat compilation on YouTube. But he recognizes the voice.

“Yeah Buck. What’s up?”

“I used to be good with girls, right?” 

At that comment, there’s nothing he can do but pause the video and look up at his friend. Bucky’s dressed in sweats and a blue workout shirt, having just come from the gym. He has a neutral look on his face, but seems to be awaiting some legitimate answer. So Steve gives him one.

“Uh, yeah. I’d say you had a way with the ladies.” He finishes the sentence with a smile, but sees Bucky staring into space and grows worried. “Why? Is everything okay? Did something happen?” 

The concern in Steve’s voice seems to snap the brunette out of whatever trance he was in, and he sits on the couch across from his friend. His confidant. His oldest acquaintance that would hopefully help him in his time of need. And most definitely not make fun of him. Like Sam probably would.

“No, there’s nothing wrong. I just…” he trails off.

“Is this about (y/n)?”

Bucky’s eyes snap up from the ground to find Steve looking at him with the smallest smile. Ever since he’s joined the Avengers, he’s never looked into whether super soldiers could still blush, but there’s a strange heat in his cheeks, and he shuffles in his seat. 

It seems as though the reaction alone gave the answer away, so he doesn’t bother trying to deny it. The smile on Steve’s face grows as he hits play on his cat video and leans back in his seat.

“Dude, you gotta tell her. Where is she anyway?”

Bucky rolls his eyes at his friend’s amusement. At least he’s not screaming it throughout the building. Sam would probably do that.

“She’s in the gym, sparring with Sam.”

Steve steals a quick glance at Bucky and says with a smirk, “So you left because you were jealous?” 

“Wait what? Jealous of bird brain? No.”

There’s a moment of silence – save for the sound of cats purring – before Bucky runs a hand through his hair and sighs deeply. 

“I actually do want to tell her. I just… can’t. I don’t know how?”

After seeing the sad look in his friend’s eyes and hearing the quiet in his voice, Steve decides to save the cat compilation for later and puts his phone in his pocket. Everyone on the grounds knows Bucky has a thing for you. Steve even thinks you know he has a thing for you. Yet whenever it’s brought up in conversation, Bucky usually changes the subject or magically has somewhere to be. Clearly, if his friend is willing to admit that he likes her in this moment in time, he must really need the help. 

“Okay, Buck. What is it you like about her?”

Steve’s sudden participation in the conversation paints confusion on Bucky’s face.

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna help you come up with somethin’ to say to her. So, what do you like about her?”

Bucky shuffles in his seat again and scratches the back of his head.

“Well, I mean, I don’t know. She’s pretty. Obviously. But it’s more than that. Like when she talks about something she’s interested in, she has this smile on her face that adds a sparkle to her eyes. Or when we’re stuck on a tough mission, she still smiles, even if she’s exhausted or scared. But she won’t admit it until way after. She just keeps on working, and flexing that brain of hers. God, she’s smart.

And strong. And fast. When she’s doing her free-running thing in the gym, she just flies around like it’s nothing. She’s got that, and her close-quarters, too. Plus her knife work? Incredible. You should really see it. I see her working on it every day and it just gets better and better. She seems so innocent, but she’ll beat the crap out of whoever stands in her way. Including me.

Yet, with all of that, she still struggles to reach the jar of Nutella on the top shelf in the kitchen. I always make fun of her for it, but end up getting it for her, and she insists on sharing a Nutella sandwich with me in return. You know, I never tried Nutella until I met her? And while we’re eating, we’ll talk. About anything and everything. Sometimes it’s about the weather, or things to do that day. Sometimes we even talk about our pasts, but it never bothers me because I feel like I can just be me around her. She doesn’t care about this metal clunk of an arm. Or what I’ve done. Or who I was. Even if I do. I feel like I’m my old self when I’m around her.”

“Except for the fact that you can’t flirt like your old self,” Steve gestures between the two of them, “evidently.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes before leaning back in his own seat.

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

There’s another moment of silence as Steve studies his best friend. There’s no way he noticed himself, but as Bucky spoke, a boyish smile grew on his face and his posture relaxed until he seemed drunk on the thought of you. It had been so long since the blonde had seen the brunette falling for someone, and after seeing how happy just talking about you made him, he’d mentally decided to help make this happen in any way he could. So he asks the next logical question.

“So what do you want to do with her?”

Bucky looks at Steve with eyebrows raised. It’s Steve’s turn to roll his eyes.

“You know, for a hundred-plus-year-old man, you really have your mind in the gutter.”

The two men smile.

“I mean, what’s next? Where do you want to go from there? Say you come up with this elaborate plan to tell her how you feel, and it goes off without a hitch. And say she likes you back. What next?”

Bucky’s eyes widen. He’d never thought past telling her how he felt, and he sure as hell never thought about you liking him back.

“I… I don’t know.”

“C’mon, Buck. Just think about it. Say what comes to mind.”

Bucky fiddles with the hem of his shirt as he thinks. Then he just starts speaking.

“I guess I’d wanna see where it goes. I’d keep talking with her and sharing Nutella sandwiches. I’d cheer her on while she’s training and while we’re on missions, and when we come back, we’d relax and watch movies. Maybe I’ll try taking her on a date. A night out on the town. Find a fancy place somewhere with the expensive food and drink. Then take the doll dancin’ or somethin’.”

“There he is,” Steve laughs.

Bucky stops and tilts his head.

“Dolls and dancin’. That’s very… you.” 

Bucky tunes into what Steve pointed out, and then there’s a lopsided smile on his face.

”Steve, I like who I am around her. She makes me happy, and I wanna make her happy, too.” 

The blonde gets up from the couch to retreat to his room. As he walks by, he claps a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I think you just found what you need to say to her, buddy.”

Steve leaves, but thirty minutes later, Bucky’s still sitting on the couch. Mind and heart racing at just how much he’d admitted to his friend. How terrified he is of letting you know. How he’d never hear the end of it if Steve somehow told you. Or Sam. 

“Oh hey, Buck!”

Your voice snaps him back to reality. 

“Hi.”

He mentally punches himself for not being able to get more than one syllable out of his mouth, considering the speech he gave earlier. 

“What’re you up to?”

He barely registers your words as he’s lost in your glow. You’d never accept the compliment, but he thought you still looked good even after a two-hour long workout. 

“Not much. Needed to talk to Steve about…something.” He punches himself again at the hesitation but quickly moves on. “How was the gym?”

“Good, good. Sam’s no sparring partner, though. Would’ve loved the challenge of taking you or Stevie in the ring.”

“Challenge accepted. Give me a time and place.” 

Bucky’s taken aback by his own confidence, but you seem to be unbothered.

“Ooh, this should be fun,” you say with a playful smirk, “Maybe sometime next week?”

Bucky nods in approval.

“Great. But until then, I’m gonna take a shower. Nutella and a movie after?”

He fights back the urge to blurt out a ‘yes please absolutely’ and pretends to think about it for a few seconds before replying.

“I’ll make the sandwiches while you’re getting ready.” 

You give him a smile that makes his day so much better than it already is before heading off to your own room. As you disappear down the hall, Bucky lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Boy, is this gonna be interesting. 

\---

A/N: Soooooo I actually have a little chapter 2 planned *if there’s interest*. Let’s just say some time passes and someone finally decides to stir the pot just a tiiiny little bit.


	2. Chapter 2

A month later, absolutely nothing has changed. Many sandwiches were shared between the two of you. Many a movie were watched in each other's company. The sparring match took place the week after it was proposed, and you won, but no one knows whether he let you win - not even Bucky himself.

Yes. A month later, absolutely nothing has changed between the two of you. And while he would never complain about spending time with one of the few people who made his life worth living, he wish he could tell you everything. He simply couldn't bring himself to say what he wanted to. For the past month, the words remained unspoken, though always on the tip of his tongue, as if they would magically springboard out into the world at any given second. But they never did.

It wasn't just Bucky who was waiting for… something (anything) to happen. Steve never brought it up in conversation, hoping Bucky would just wake up one day and do it himself, but he did notice the lack of a chemistry change between the two of you. He did notice how his friend was growing increasingly restless as the days dragged by. Maybe Bucky had already told you? Maybe you didn't feel the same way (though Steve swears he thought you did)? Maybe you did feel the same way but didn't want things to change?

He admitted it wasn't exactly his business, but after a month of seeing you be you and Bucky slowly losing himself in admiring you, Steve finally caught up with Bucky after a mission debriefing.

"So," Steve said as he walked alongside Bucky down some nondescript hallway.

"So," was the reply, as Bucky turned his head curiously and slowed his pace ever so slightly.

Clearly Bucky wasn't on the same page.

"Have you told (y/n) yet?"

Bucky speeds up. He wonders if he can outrun Steve to avoid the conversation, but decides he's too exhausted to try.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Dunno."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Bucky."

Both men stop in the middle of the hallway and look around to ensure they're alone before continuing.

"Steve."

"You should tell her. I know it's none of my business but--"

"You'd be correct."

"--you may be surprised with the results."

Bucky chews the inside of his cheek and looks at the empty walls with a sudden interest, as if they somehow turned into a museum exhibit. It takes zero words for Steve to know what he's thinking about.

"Just do it. Stop waiting for some sign. Or if you insist, consider me the sign. A bright sign that reads 'TELL HER' in all caps and can be seen all the way down Broadway"

On the surface, Bucky still wants to contest. He wants to say he isn't ready. That the time isn't right. That he will tell her… eventually.

But deep down he knows Steve's right, and he lets out a sigh.

"Fine."

Steve tries to hide his shock.

"Fine."

"When?"

"Ideally? Right now."

Bucky shoots him a dangerous glare.

"Okay fine. Tomorrow."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Can I leave now?"

Steve lets out a laugh, picturing Bucky as a troublemaker student who was stopped by the Principal in the hallway. He puts his hands up in surrender.

Bucky walks away, but before he gets too far, Steve reminds him one last time.

"Tomorrow."

"10-4, Cap."

Steve shakes his head with a smile before heading to his own room. He knows that even though Bucky confirmed 'tomorrow' twice, he'll still magically forget.

He's gonna need reinforcements.

*** le next day ***

Nothing happens the next day, but in all fairness, it was because of a minor Avengers emergency that needed to be taken care of. He did take note of how Bucky stood in awe, jaw essentially on the ground, after he saw you take down a bot with a flip and your knife. Steve hoped Bucky would follow through the day after, but unsurprisingly, Bucky seemed to have taken the quick mission as a free pass.

Time for Plan B.

After seeing you alone in the lounge and sharing pleasantries, Steve dashed to Bucky's room where he was browsing through Netflix.

"Let's go."

Bucky looked up immediately. Steve used his 'we have a mission' voice and it seemed to have worked. He stood up without hesitation.

To Steve's relief, no questions were asked as they approached the lounge, for sometimes they cut through on the way to the briefing wing. However, when Bucky saw you, he tried to turn around and head straight back to his room. Steve grabbed his arm and pushed him forward.

"Hey, (y/n/n)" Steve started with a happier-than-necessary tone while staring at Bucky.

Bucky shot back daggers until he saw you put down the book you were reading and turn to look at them.

"Hey, Stevie. Hey, Buck."

Bucky smiled but said nothing. He liked when you said his nickname. It was a nickname everyone used but it sounded nicer when it came out of your mouth. Like honey on a--

"Something up?"

Your voice brought him back. He looked at Steve, who pointed back at him, and you looked at the brunette quizzically.

"James?"

As if the nickname wasn't enough, hearing you use his first name made his stomach flip. He hated the butterflies in his stomach and balled his hands up into fists to distract himself from the feeling. Why did this have to be so hard?

"That bot you took out yesterday," he blurts out. "Nice trick."

You raise an eyebrow briefly, but smile.

"Thanks, Buck. New flip I've been working on. Nice to be able to use it in the field, and nice to have someone notice."

Steve literally whacks the back of Bucky's head, and if he weren't busy fighting the urge to say 'of course I'd notice', he would've said much more than just

"What the hell!"

You stand up from your spot on the couch.

"Okay seriously, guys. Is everything okay?"

"Yes."

"No."

Bucky and Steve respond at the same time.

They have a wordless argument through stares and daggers and head nods and jaw clenches, and you're just left to wait it out.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y." Steve breaks the silence. "Lounge TV. Roll it."

He's done waiting for Bucky to wake up. He knows you'll be able to handle it, and is willing to endure whatever silent treatment he'll receive for this interference.

"At once, Captain Rogers."

_"So what do you like about her?"_

You find the source of the audio is the lounge television screen and see surveillance footage dated almost exactly a month before today's date.

_"Well, I mean, I don't know. She's pretty. Obviously. But it's more than that."_

As the footage rolls on, Steve dares to look at Bucky, and is met with a death glare that, no lie, scares him just the tiniest bit. He's experienced two different centuries and has never witnessed literal steam coming out of someone's ears. Until now. Steve adjusts his posture to stand tall, prepared to reason his punishment with the other man, until he's met with a poke to the chest.

"Watch where you sleep tonight."

And he storms off.

Steve doesn't bother chasing after Bucky, instead turning to look at you.

_"...flexing that brain of hers. God she's smart."_

Realization has washed over your face and you look to Steve for a final confirmation. He smiles and shrugs.

"Watch it, will you? I'm gonna go build my coffin."

He walks away and you sit on the couch once more, watching Bucky deliver his confession. For a moment, you feel like someone intruding on a private moment, but if the whole Steve-and-Bucky exchange is any indication, this needed to be shared.

So you sit and listen intently, not noticing the how wide your smile grows as the footage rolls.

_"She makes me happy, and I wanna make her happy, too.”_

You sit in silence for a few seconds, wondering what to do next. You did have an idea of how Bucky felt about you, which was only highlighted by the entire team poking fun at you every once in a while. But to hear it come from him, albeit indirectly, made it...real.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y."

"Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?"

"Where’s Bucky now?”

“Sergeant Barnes appears to be in his room.”

The screen that played the footage seconds ago cuts to Bucky’s present room, and your eyes widen in slight concern. He’s plopped in the middle of his bed, on his stomach, with his face in a pillow.

“Is he...okay?”

“Vital signs are present, though his mumbling about how ‘the punk is going to get it’ may explain the elevated heart rate and blood pressure.”

You can’t help but laugh. Who would’ve thought the world’s once most feared soldier also doubled as the world’s oldest teenager?

“Would you like me to call him down, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

Your response comes with a smile.

“No, thank you. Though please inform Steve about any of Bucky’s plans. We don’t need them going at each other.”

“Indeed, Ms. (y/l/n).”

In all your years of training, nothing could have prepared you for this. You replayed the last line of the video over and over again in your head, not completely certain about how to process it or respond. Your suspicions were true, and the team must have poked and prodded you because they also knew it to be true this entire time. You wondered how long Bucky had been harbouring his emotions, and whether he had liked you as long as you liked him.

You thought back to when you first met, the day Bucky came to the compound. He was quieter then, only speaking when spoken to, and almost glued to Steve’s side. A few months passed and while he could be found Steve-less throughout the halls, he still kept to himself for the most part. It wasn’t until a late-night encounter that you became close to the former Winter Soldier.

*** le flashback ***

It’d been a long day of training, yet you were still awake at 3 in the morning, craving a snack. Your muscles were sore and you felt like you deserved a chocolatey treat for how hard you pushed yourself that day, instead of your typical apple slices. No one was awake to judge you, anyway. Or so you thought.

Realizing that someone must’ve moved your Nutella supply to the top shelf, you tippy-toed to reach it, and let out a huff when your efforts failed. Why did you have to work even more for your reward?

“Need some help?”

As quiet as the voice was, you still jumped in your spot. Reflexes - always a work in progress. You turned to see none other than Bucky Barnes standing at the entrance of the kitchen. Not exactly in the mood to climb and possibly knock something over, you surrendered.

“Can you reach the Nutella jar on the top shelf?”

He studied the shelf carefully before his eyes landed on the prize. He walked over and reached for the jar, looking at it curiously before handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you say, studying him in the process.

He watched as you prepared your beloved snack, and you could feel his eyes on you the entire time. Though strange, it wasn’t creepy. He seemed like a young boy, curious about what you were doing.

Suddenly and without a word, he turned and walked away.

“Wait!”

Your voice seemed to surprise the both of you, and he turned around once again.

“Do you want half? You’re looking at it like you’ve never tried it before and if that’s true, we need to end that right now.”

You hold a plate with half your sandwich in his direction. At first he looks at the sandwich, then you, and back at the sandwich, and after a long pause, he decides to accept your offer. Thank god - your arm was getting tired.

The two of you stayed up, eating and talking. Well, you did most of the talking, though he did speak, and it was more that you’d ever heard him speak before. He asked questions about the chocolate spread and why you were awake, and you asked questions about whether he enjoyed the sandwich as you’d hoped, and avoided questions like why he was awake, because you were pretty sure you knew the answer.

That was just the first night, though. The sandwich meetings became a trend, and not just in the dead of night. From time to time, you’d share these moments, the both of you eventually opening up more and more. But nothing was ever forced. It felt like making a normal friend. As normal as being an Avenger could be.

***end of the le flashback***

It’s strange to think about how far you’d come. About how far he’d come. About what you both had done together and alone since your first meeting and that first night. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way, but what would happen next? How different would it be? Would it be better? Would it be awkward? Would something go wrong? What would the team say? Is this sort of thing even allowed?

The longer you sit, more questions pile up in your head. It’s equal parts worrying and exciting, not knowing for certain where any of your responses would take you. You like to consider yourself a calculated individual, planning far into the future. But in this situation, you can’t see past the next step. Despite this, and in the midst of your confusion, there was a little tiny piece of you that felt like it knew what to do next.

You let it guide you, and you stood up and went to the kitchen.

\-----

A/N: Well this chapter ended up being WAY longer than I planned. Especially towards the end. But I’m never satisfied with the way I write a reader’s thoughts. Probably because I’m never satisfied with my own thoughts. ANYWAY. There may be a third chapter. I scribbled some lines down on a scrap piece of paper and I'll put in the effort to stitch it all together if there are people that want it!


	3. Chapter 3

_James Buchanan Barnes was born in the United States of America in the year 1917. He died a sergeant in 1943, after falling from a train in the Austrian Alps while on a mission with the Howling Commandos. In the year 2014, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes was born again in the United States of America, after being confronted by one Captain Steven Grant Rogers._

_The term “born again” is used quite loosely. Barnes was “born again” in that he was thrust into a world he did not understand, in a body he did not recognize, in front of a person he could not truly identify other than someone who knew and cared for him deeply._

_Indeed it was in these ways he was “born again”. Yet, most of the time, it felt as though he had never come back from the dead. His mind was a minefield were any minor misstep may have marked the misfortune of men. His days were spent sidestepping through swampy waters, unsure of where to walk and what memories to pursue, with the added weight of physical reminders pulling him down on one side._

_Since his return in 2014, and up until this very moment, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes has been doing what most people do during in their childhood: learning the ways of the world, and more importantly, learning about himself. And similar to those going through this learning process, he has found people to rely on for help._

_As the only person from his first life, and who by some luck also serves as the sole person with a story anywhere close to his own, the Captain was an obvious choice. For a long time, Steve Rogers was his only choice. Rogers broke him out and brought him in, and believed in him more than he ever believed in himself. He gave him time, resources, and more support than he ever thought he was allowed to receive._

_It was also through him that he met you._

_You, who worked and trained as hard as his heart pounded when you so much as gave him a smile. You, whom he had never known in a life before this one, and yet was still able to make him feel more at home than most of the people he had ever encountered. You, who had somehow found your way into his personal definition of “home”._

_You and Rogers were his life. More specifically, you and Rogers made him want to_ live _his life. You two were as important to him as sunlight and water are to a flower. As important as ink and a pen were to Leonardo Da Vinci. As important as cookies and milk are to a child coming home from school._

_Except that the cookies weren’t supposed to tell the milk that the child had a massive crush on them._

Bucky groans – partially at the terrible metaphor, but mostly at his inability to think of just what the hell to do next.

He thinks about how he’s been through hell and back, with dying and being brought back and feeling like he was dead until he was truly brought back, and groans again at how a pretty girl like you and his punk of a friend have him stumped.

Maybe if he just lay in bed forever he’d eventually melt into it and never have to deal with any of this.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Go away,” he mumbles into the pillow. He’s almost certain it sounds more like ‘guhhwuh’, but hopes that the gibberish is satisfactory evidence of his present disinterest in human interaction.

“James?”

Bucky groans again. Of course it had to be you. If it weren’t the Captain, it would be you.

He rolls onto his back, but stays in bed, waiting to see – or rather, hear – if you’d leave.

“James.”

Of course you wouldn’t.

He rolls out of bed and makes his way to the door. The part of him that’s screaming to just ignore you for once is silenced by the same part of him that makes him glance in the mirror to make sure he’s semi-presentable. He mentally punches himself when he notices what he’s doing. Why was he like this?

Finally, he unlocks the door and cracks it open. He’s met with you, knuckles about to tap the door again. He raises his eyebrows, unwilling to say anything more than he – in a private conversation between himself and his supposed confidant – already has. You present to him a brown paper bag.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted a snack… or something.”

\-----

A/N: To be honest, kind of an unintentional chapter. I felt the need to write today and was able to connect it to this story. There's one line in particular that this chapter was inspired by, and props to you if you can tell what it is. Anyway, the finale is still to come!!! Let me know if there’s anything specific you want to see hehe

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! Comments are cool *wink wink*


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